


It's a lovely morning in the Golden Deer classroom, and Claude is a naughty omega

by OneTooManyDots



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha!Lorenz, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Claude is New Here, Dubious Consent, Heats and Ruts, Knotting, M/M, Omega!Claude, Public Sex, and a/b/o is a weird Fodlan thing, he thinks he managed to hack it, narrator voice: he did not, naughty omegas get punished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29166096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTooManyDots/pseuds/OneTooManyDots
Summary: Claude woke up early and energized, and just itching with the urge to make good use of his extra time and deepen his bond of not quite friendship with the most reticent of his classmates. In hindsight, this was the sort of impulse he should have examined more closely before acting on it, but it hadn’t seemed so strange at the time: while one of the first things he’d learned after coming to Fodlan – right after learning that he was what they called an omega  – was that any alpha this arrogant wasn’t worth the trouble, he found Lorenz’s hostility to be the entertaining kind. Maybe it was his disarming sincerity. Maybe it was the way he’d get worked up all by himself and then leave in a huff.Maybe it was what a healthy dose of irritation did to his scent. Claude had always thought it suited him. Made him spicier.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56
Collections: Horny Void





	It's a lovely morning in the Golden Deer classroom, and Claude is a naughty omega

Claude woke up early and energized, and just itching with the urge to make good use of his extra time and deepen his bond of not quite friendship with the most reticent of his classmates. In hindsight, this was the sort of impulse he should have examined more closely before acting on it, but it hadn’t seemed so strange at the time: while one of the first things he’d learned after coming to Fódlan – right after learning that he was what they called an _omega_ – was that any alpha this arrogant wasn’t worth the trouble, he found Lorenz’s hostility to be the entertaining kind. Maybe it was his disarming sincerity. Maybe it was the way he’d get worked up all by himself and then leave in a huff.

Maybe it was what a healthy dose of irritation did to his scent. Claude had always thought it suited him. Made him spicier.

And so he made sure to get to class with a few minutes to spare, which Lorenz didn’t fail to comment on. He replied to Lorenz’s jab about his refusal to button his uniform properly with a remark about how Lorenz was taking liberties of his own with the dress code by adding flashy decorations, which he knew Lorenz would be at least moderately offended by. And then he sat down in the unclaimed spot next to Lorenz’s usual seat and took a deep breath, thinking this could easily become his favorite way to start the day. 

As he watched Ignatz apologize, quickly gather his things and move away, Claude once again felt fortunate that no amount of learning about Fódlan customs had managed to turn him into the kind of omega who got skittish when the big scary alphas became antsy. Well, no, he was being unfair. After all, the suppressant he took – his own customized formula – was quite a bit more potent than the traditional Fódlan recipe. Who knew what kind of instincts it helped suppress on top of the heats? Claude hadn’t had the opportunity to test it on anyone besides himself. Perhaps he should consider expending the size of his test group. If only he could be sure Ignatz wouldn’t snitch.

Still, Claude couldn’t imagine finding the scent that came with Lorenz’s anger to be alarming rather than pleasant. He knew people who swore there was no better way to wake up than to the smell of a fresh cup of coffee, and the appeal must be similar: familiar, at this point, many moons into the academy year, invigorating, just bitter enough. Claude was finding it particularly enjoyable this morning, deep and musky, rich with the promise of a good round of banter. It sent a nice tingle through him that was maybe meant to feel like fear, but only felt like excitement.

He doubted Lorenz would take it as a compliment, though, since he just loved telling Claude all about how a proper noble alpha should demonstrate calmness and self-control, and so Claude refrained from telling him. Despite his teasing, Claude really did want to get along with Lorenz, even if he didn’t expect their version of getting along to ever be entirely devoid of hostility. Sure, right now he was annoying Lorenz on purpose for fun and profit, but Lorenz usually started it, and Claude wanted to believe that any type of conversation was more likely to advance their friendship than none. 

That was why, when he turned to make small talk and Lorenz recoiled, his feelings were hurt.

“Well,” he said, after the split second it took him to recover from the wound, “that’s just rude, even by your standard.”

Lorenz gave him an odd look. “Are you…” he started, before interrupting himself to consider the half empty classroom.

It was still filling up, but most of their classmates where already there: Raphael off to the side in an effort not to block anyone’s view; Marianne a couple rows behind him, as if trying to disappear behind his imposing size; Leonie closer to the middle, helping Ignatz pick up his notes from the floor where he’d dropped them in his haste to get away from Lorenz’s temper; Lysithea behind them, alone at her table, watching Ignatz’s struggles with open contempt.

“...Am I what?” Claude asked, when Lorenz failed to pick his sentence back up.

Lorenz stared at him some more, at first with a hint of concern that only made Claude confused. Then he shook his head, like he was dismissing the thought. He sounded nothing but irritated when he finally said, “This isn’t where you normally sit.”

“Wild, I know.” Claude leaned in mock confidence, and so he wouldn’t need to raise his voice to be heard over the morning chatter. “Sometimes I like to have oatmeal for breakfast instead of toast, too. Once in a while, I even wear black socks instead of whi–” 

“Do refrain from rubbing yourself all over me,” Lorenz snapped.

Alright, Claude was leaning close, but not that close. Besides, as far as their usual banter went, their conversation so far barely qualified as a warm up. He backed off reluctantly, disappointed that Lorenz wasn’t in the mood to play. “Someone’s extra cranky this morning. You need to talk about it?”

Lorenz scoffed. With a frown, he dragged his chair as far away as the geometry of the desks allowed, which wasn’t very much, and started writing the date at the top of his notes with more concentration than could possibly be needed. To his credit, he was discreet in smelling the air to try to pick out the finer details of Claude’s scent, and Claude almost couldn’t tell.

Frankly, he could barely even smell himself over how much Lorenz wanted to bite his head off, but he couldn’t imagine what Lorenz was searching for. Hilda got a little too touchy-feely sometimes, saying Claude acted so unlike any other omega she knew that she forgot. Was her scent still on him? Did that offend Lorenz’s sense of propriety? But he hadn’t even greeted Hilda yet this morning. She was just now walking into the classroom, right on Byleth’s heels, probably still arguing the validity of her excuse for staying in bed.

Claude sighed and started setting up his things on the desk, ignoring Lorenz’s badly disguised attempt at prying. Really, with the level of scrutiny omegas were subjected to, it was just as well that the suppressant he took suppressed, well, everything. He only meant for it to suppress his heats, and it certainly did an amazing job of doing that. Instead of spending a few days every cycle writhing in only partially alleviated agony, he got to treat himself to a few days of self study in his room while people brought him water and snacks. Boring, sometimes, yes, but tolerable. He had already accumulated a small tower of books for his upcoming “heat” that he just couldn’t wait to dig into, and it was only because his didn’t want to be absent during their class’s next mission that he was going to be conveniently “late” until next week. 

He hadn’t meant for it to completely suppress his sexual urges, but that was just a bonus: no danger of getting punished for distracting the easily distractable alphas with his sexy horny omega scent when he never even got horny anymore. He could think of few prospects less appealing than getting knotted in public whenever he started smelling a bit too nice just for the principle of it, and he was glad to have managed to avoid it during the months he spent in Fódlan before perfecting his formula. This whole omega thing was definitely more troublesome now that there were alphas around – or at least, like with many other things, Fódlan traditions made it that way. He didn’t miss getting aroused all that much, all things considered. Mostly, he just remembered it as being unnecessarily distracting and impractically wet.

Lorenz could sniff at him all he wanted, he wouldn’t find even a trace of anything improper. Claude was ready to bet that his apparently effortless self-control was only annoying Lorenz further. Just another benefit. Really, with how irritable he was, Lorenz was lucky he smelled nice.

Class started before Lorenz’s mood improved, but Claude refused to let it bother him. He didn’t know why everything he did was getting on Lorenz’s nerves today, and he hoped Lorenz would get over it eventually so they could move on to the fun kind of arguing, but if he didn’t, well. Lorenz wasn’t exactly the calm, strong, soothing presence he was convinced omegas needed even on his best days, and Claude had never minded too much. Byleth was explaining some strategy involving a ballista that was already giving Claude ideas for an even more exciting strategy involving several ballistae and explosives. No need to let Lorenz’s mood swings ruin his day.

It didn’t happen until about one hour in, at the earliest. Claude had been adding little bowl cuts to the enemy soldiers in his rendition of the diagram Byleth had drawn on the board, vaguely hoping that Lorenz would look his way, kind of not completely disliking the fact the he could still smell Lorenz’s annoyance rolling off him in waves, when he noticed the change.

It wasn’t something he had ever smelled from _Lorenz._ Gods, there was something indecent about the very concept. This part of Lorenz’s brag about his flawless self-control wasn’t just for show, at least. Still, Claude knew what an aroused alpha smelled like, and even if they weren’t alone in their corner of the classroom, he would have known were it came from. It wasn’t so dissimilar to how Lorenz usually smelled – when he was around Claude, at least, agitated and primed for a fight – that Claude didn’t immediately recognize it. But this was a heavier, muskier scent, not made to travel far the way an omega’s would, but made to cling and linger. Soon after Claude noticed it, it hit him so thick that it almost made him cough, and it was so out of place coming from _Lorenz_ that Claude felt his face grow warm.

Later, Claude would reflect on his numerous mistakes, and realize that he should have just picked up his notes, his pen and his inkwell and quietly walked away, Lorenz’s feelings be damned. In the moment, he convinced himself that Lorenz would soon get a grip, and he should try to ignore it in the meantime. Even when their eyes met and Lorenz glowered at him like this was somehow Claude’s fault, Claude told himself that Lorenz was simply lashing out in embarrassment. If he moved now, he would carry the smell of Lorenz’s shame around with him, Lorenz would resent him, and where would that leave them? No, the kind, inconspicuous, diplomatic thing to do would be to stay right where he was and wait this out.

Besides, it wasn’t like Claude was bothered by Lorenz’s scent, really – he had thought Lorenz smelled good before, and smelling more of him wasn’t changing his mind. It was a bit distracting, sure, but Claude was above whining every time someone’s scent got a little loose, unlike _someone_ he knew. Since Lorenz so liked to teach his classmates how to behave by example, maybe Claude could teach him what minding his own business looked like by not reacting. Maybe Lorenz would be grateful for Claude’s discretion, later, once his head cleared. This could be a turning point in their friendship.

Later, Claude would wonder how any of these excuses had managed to sound convincing, and realize, with a belated flare of embarrassment, that his own head wasn’t exactly clear then, either. 

Claude busied himself with completing the diagram he had been drawing from memory – when had Byleth erased it? – and waited for Lorenz to get a hold of himself. And class went on, and he kept waiting.

Lorenz’s scent was, actually, becoming more than just a little distracting, and it kept drawing Claude’s attention from the intricacies of ranged combat tactics to the stiff way Lorenz was sitting. He supposed that, despite his best chemical efforts, he was still omega enough that being so close to Lorenz while he was like this made him restless. He just couldn’t seem to stop himself from noticing the color on Lorenz’s cheeks, and the tension in his jaw. Every time Lorenz’s hand stopped moving across the page for too long, Claude’s gaze dropped from the sharp lines of his face to find it clenched around his pen, before he forced himself to turn his attention back to the front of the classroom. Every time, he found the board had been erased and the lesson had moved on. At this rate, his own notes would end up with more holes in them than Lorenz’s.

Thankfully, Lorenz didn’t seem to notice him looking, too busy staring straight ahead as if pretending Claude wasn’t sitting there close enough for the smell of his arousal to stick to him would make it true. Claude wondered if he could make Lorenz snap out of it quicker by getting him out of his head. With that idea in mind, he kicked at Lorenz’s leg under the table.

He didn’t kick hard, but when Lorenz’s heap whipped towards him, he was snarling, teeth bare, eyes narrowed. That was new, and it sent a shiver of something primal all the way down Claude’s spine. Through the fog of his abysmal decision making, he managed to recognize that the part of him that wanted to do that again immediately was not one he should listen to. Instead, he mouthed, “Sorry,” and stretched his legs in front of himself as if the was the natural continuation of his movement. That seemed to make Lorenz remember his manners. He turned away, bashful, hand clamped over his mouth. Claude saw him take a deep breath before running a hand through his hair.

Claude’s heart was beating fast, and he wished he could have pretended it was anxiety, or whatever it was that made Ignatz seem to shrink to half of his already unimpressive size whenever he happened to see him and Lorenz argue from too close. He couldn’t, not when his own scent was starting to sweeten like an invitation, and mix suggestively with Lorenz’s musk. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It hadn’t in months. Unfortunately, it seemed science had it’s limit, and that limit was about one hour of Lorenz sending “I need to fuck” signals from a couple feet away. Understandable, but this was still a regrettable time to be making this discovery.

There was still time before anyone noticed. Lorenz might be known for having a good nose, but he was trying so hard to ignore Claude’s entire existence at the moment that it just might buy Claude enough time to nip this in the bud. All Claude needed to do was stop thinking about Lorenz for a minute – which shouldn’t be that hard, no matter how much he smelled like a good time.

If only he could focus on the lesson and stop pondering parts of Lorenz’s anatomy he had no reason to and the state they were in. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking about the intimate details of how the form-fitting cut of Lorenz’s uniform accommodated that. Easier said, when one of Lorenz’s hands had disappeared under the desk, and Claude could see him shift in his chair from the corner of his eye as he adjusted himself. “Want some help with that?” was on the tip of his tongue, and the offer would have been alarmingly sincere.

Somewhere else, far away, Raphael raised his hand and asked a question Claude didn’t hear. Claude’s scent permeated the air, spicy-sweet and positively mouth-watering, he had to admit. Better keep his confidence up, because he sure was about to find out who in their class agreed. Lorenz turned towards him again, and when their eyes met, everything about his expression said, “I knew it!” What it was exactly Lorenz thought he knew, Claude had no idea. He had been so sure it couldn’t happen until he let it, this heat in his guts, this dampness between his legs. All Claude knew was that Lorenz had caused this. _Serves me right for trying to be friendly._

Panicking wasn’t going to help. Claude did his best to distract himself, but, as Byleth launched into a third explanation of the seminar’s topic at Raphael’s distressed demand, he found himself running out of things to focus on. He flipped aimlessly through the pages of the manual today’s lesson was supposed to be based on, but the prose was dry and he had already read through it once, and he quickly closed it again. He tried to construct a fortress on the corner of his desk, but he only had so many spare pens. From the corner of his eye, he saw Leonie frown and sniff at the air. She must have deemed it none of her business, because she didn’t otherwise react.

Lorenz glared at him when he started folding his too thick note paper into an inflatable ball, which was pretty bold of him, considering. Not like their entire class could smell him – or would care at all if they could, because that wasn’t how this worked, apparently – but he had to be able to smell himself, and to have realized Claude could, too. At least he had enough shame not to pretend he had enough moral superiority to call Claude out. From two rows away, Hilda turned to look at him, wide eyed. He waved, and she turned away.

Claude found himself wondering how much self-control Lorenz usually had – or was it disinterest? – because he was sure he would have been able to pick up Lorenz’s aroused scent through their shared dormitory wall. He certainly wouldn’t be able to ignore him even in the crowded dining hall after today, so firmly implanted his scent was in his memory. His paper ball wasn’t looking very ball-like, and he couldn’t seem to focus for long enough to figure out what was wrong with it. He unfolded it, and started on a bird. From the opposite side of the classroom, Ignatz glanced at him nervously.

“Claude.” Byleth stared at him, unblinking. Everyone else was either staring at him curiously or blatantly looking somewhere else. Lorenz was back to staring studiously at the blackboard. “You are distracting your classmates.”

“Haha, you know how it is, Teach!” He put on his most charming smile, although it had yet to work on Byleth any better than on a brick wall. Back home, no one had been able to smell him, and so no one had known, no one had cared, and he had been able to get horny in peace, but he wasn’t about to explain that. “Just got a bit _distracted_ myself. I’m sure it happens to all of us.”

Lorenz turned to glare at him again. There was no way Claude was the only one who noticed how he was not openly gloating.

“And you know what the rules are,” Byleth replied, unmoved.

Resigning himself to his fate, Claude put down the crumpled bird and got up, leaving an embarrassingly large wet spot behind. At least, he was sure Lorenz got a good whiff. How’s that for a distraction?

If Byleth wanted to humiliate him, they would pick Lorenz. If they didn’t, they would pick anyone else.

“Hilda.”

“Aww, I’d love to, Professor, but I really can’t today.” Hilda’s apologetic smile didn’t usually work on Byleth, either, which was fortunate, because he knew he could count on Hilda to take it as easy as she could get away with.

“You heard them, no use trying to get out of it,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go to the back, out of the way.”

But Hilda looked genuinely sorry when she glanced at him before continuing, “I hurt my knee falling off my wyvern, and Manuela said not to put too much strain on it. Marianne saw me.”

Marianne neither confirmed nor denied, seemingly very invested in pretending none of this was happening. Possibly praying for Byleth not to pick her next.

“Well, if it must be done, I suppose I’ll have to be the one to do it,” Lorenz announced dramatically. “After all, a noble must not let his personal feelings get in the way of his duty.”

As if Claude couldn’t see how blatantly aroused he was from his vantage point, on top of smelling it all morning. This would allow him to save face, too, since anyone else would have been able to tell how much the self-control he was so proud of had slipped as soon as they smelled Claude from up close. Still, when he saw Marianne breath a sigh of relief, Claude knew he couldn’t protest.

“Sure, why not?” Claude said lightly. “Let’s just get on with it already.” Sometimes, the trick to having his opinion matter was simply to act like it did. Byleth nodded and went back to the lesson.

He choose a desk in one of the corners to lean over, and rolled his eyes when Lorenz swatted his hand away to unfasten his pants himself.

“Are those your _personal feelings_ in your pocket, or…”

“Do not speak,” Lorenz hissed, tugging Claude’s pants and underwear down to his mid-thighs in one swift motion. “All that can do is make it worse.”

_Yeah, you wish I found you intimidating enough to obey that._

Lorenz's fingers prodded at him. They entered him easily when he pressed back, and Claude felt his insides tighten in anticipation. Lorenz must have felt it too, but Claude didn't intend to give him time to appreciate the effect he was having. He couldn’t hide how much he wanted it, but Lorenz didn’t need to know how much he wanted it from _him._

"Yup, all good and ready. Isn’t that exactly what the problem is?"

Lorenz withdrew his hand, vexed. "I was simply making sure."

The sentiment would have been more touching if Claude couldn't already feel his slick dripping down his thighs. 

"Lorenz, if I have to keep standing here for much longer, someone is going to have to start mopping. Are the illustrations in the anatomy books not detailed enough?"

"Wha – You are not my first, Claude von Riegan! Don't get any ideas," Lorenz sputtered, too loudly. Somewhere in the room, someone chuckled.

No, he probably wasn't, but, in most circumstances, omegas around their age got to pick a friendly alpha of their choosing when the need arose, and reality tended to disagree with Lorenz's perception of whether he was anyone's first choice. A vastly experienced alpha Lorenz was not. Not that Claude made a habit of letting random alphas bend him over tables, either, but Lorenz didn't need to know the details of that.

“Then you should know what a well slicked omega looks like.”

If he ever had to justify why he kept trying to piss off the notoriously prickly alpha who was already seconds away from fucking him against a desk, he would say that Teach had started drawing new diagrams on the board, and he wanted to hurry it up before they missed all the good parts, and not that Lorenz always smelled that much better when he was just the right amount of riled up. Although he had to admit that, right now, he was doing it purely for the entertainment value. _Turned on Lorenz_ kind of smelled like _angry Lorenz_ but stronger, so there wasn’t much of a point to –

_Huh._

When he thought about it this way, maybe walking up to Lorenz and teasing him until he kind of smelled like he wanted to fuck him wasn’t the casual ice breaker Claude had believed it to be.

So, horny was still a thing he could be, after all. Now he knew.

Was it too late to explain, now that Lorenz was working the head of his cock inside him, about how apparently some of this was learned, some of it was instinct, and all of it was confusing when you recently moved in from somewhere without alphas around? _Hey, so, some part of my brain that didn’t bother consulting with the rest of me decided you smell cute when you’re angry, wanna take this to my room instead?_ He doubted that would go over well.

“Regardless of what it is that has you acting like even more of a disgrace than usual today,” Lorenz’s voice was pitched low, and if Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, shining example of restraint, was ever one to _growl,_ then Claude would have described it as such, “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from mocking me while I try to _help you._ ”

“Yeah, about that,” Claude started, but Lorenz was already pushing into him, and anything else he wanted to say he would have had to mumble into his forearm. Lorenz wasn’t Claude’s first, either, but, damn, it had been a while, and he forgot how big alphas could get.

He must have been misremembering how good this could be, too, because had he remembered that being filled to the brim with alpha dick could be this good, he definitely would have missed it more. He had to get up on his toes and brace most of his weight on the desk to accommodate their height difference when Lorenz pushed the last couple of inches in, but those inches were well worth it. He almost felt like this could be enough to satisfy him, this fullness and Lorenz’s weight on his back, but that was probably just his months long dry spell talking.

“Why are you clenching so hard?” came Lorenz’s strained voice, right next to his ear, half worried and half an accusation, like this was something Claude was doing on purpose to aggravate him.

With some difficulty, Claude raised his head enough to say, “No reason.” The lightness of his tone wasn’t quite convincing, but Lorenz always only heard what he wanted to hear, anyway. “Why aren’t you moving?”

Lorenz’s breath was hot against his neck. Claude wanted to ask Lorenz if he still had it together enough not to bite him, but he didn’t trust himself not to make it sound like a challenge. That quickly became irrelevant when Lorenz pulled his collar up. When Lorenz bit him, it was over the sturdy fabric of his uniform jacket, and all Claude felt of his teeth was a blunt pressure in the crook of his neck. It still made him go a bit limp in Lorenz’s hold. That might have been Lorenz’s goal, but, from the way Lorenz was gripping the edge of the desk, knuckles gone white from effort, Claude suspected the biting wasn’t entirely for his own benefit.

Only when Claude’s body relaxed did Lorenz thrust into him, pulling out and slamming back in in a sudden movement that made the desk clatter and surprised him into a moan. There was a pause in Byleth’s speech, the scattered creaks of old wooden chairs as other students turned to look. Lorenz adjusted his hold on Claude’s hips, Claude lowered his head and went back to drooling into his sleeve, and Lorenz’s subsequent thrusts were more discreet. 

It was taking everything Claude had not to whine loudly and pathetically every time Lorenz managed an angle that was better than just okay, and he really only avoided the “loudly” part by burying his face in his arms and keeping it there. He was still making enough noise for Lorenz to hear, as well as most of the back rows, judging by the dirty looks Lysithea was giving them. Claude knew the reason he couldn’t seem to keep his voice down was his lack of practice – a flaw in his otherwise flawless strategy, he was realizing – and not Lorenz’s skill, but he also knew there would be nothing he could say to keep Lorenz from believing it was the later.

Lorenz’s propensity for showing off must have overcome his respect for decorum, because he was obviously trying to get Claude to make more noise, and his aim was getting better. And when he managed to hit a good spot, he hit it hard. That, and the bruising grip Lorenz had on his hips, told Claude it wasn’t only him who was getting a lot more into it than was strictly necessary. He half expected Byleth to intervene and break them up. This had to be more distracting than Claude’s scent alone ever could be.

In any case, Claude didn’t think he could take much more of this. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like he would have to. Already, the swell of Lorenz’s knot was affecting his rhythm, only slipping in every other thrust. Every time Lorenz managed to push it in, Claude was disappointed that his body allowed it to come back out. He had forgotten how large those got, too, and how they could feel even larger inside, although he hadn’t usually let that happen. For very good reasons.

“Wait,” Claude tried to say, but the sound that came out of him wasn’t a word. Lorenz was grabbing at the front of his uniform, Lorenz’s teeth were back at his neck, and when a snap of Lorenz’s hips pushed him all the way inside, Claude knew that, this time, this was where he would stay.   
It was hard to remember why he wanted to protest when Lorenz’s release poured into him and he twitched and clenched around Lorenz’s knot. With Lorenz’s hips pulled flush against his backside and Lorenz’s scent enveloping over him like a heavy cloak, Claude could have convinced himself they were alone if it wasn’t for Byleth droning on about combat formations in the background. After a moment passed, Lorenz’s grip on his jacket loosened, he let go of Claude’s neck to nuzzle the side of Claude’s cheek with his nose, and Claude felt more full and content than he had in a long time, even after a good meal. Maybe the part of him that had wanted this was onto something.

Lysithea asked, “Are you done?” in a tone that made her low opinion of their performance very clear, and that ruined the moment.

Lorenz cleared his throat and straightened.

Then Claude heard him say, “Oh no.”

It took some careful maneuvering and Byleth’s help to get Claude and Lorenz stacked into a chair and Claude’s pant folded on a nearby desk. At Lorenz’s insistence, Claude’s jacket joined his pants in the pile, since the one saliva soaked sleeve grossed him out, which was fair enough.

At least, while Claude wasn’t exactly pleased to have to sit in Lorenz’s lap wearing nothing but a shirt for what would probably be the rest of the lesson, there was no denying how much of the situation was Lorenz’s fault this time. He wished he could see Lorenz’s face when Leonie brought them their notes and pens. With a raised eyebrow, she handed Claude his paper bird, for which he thanked her cheerfully. Hilda made eye contact and formed a heart with her hands, and he blew her a kiss. Ignatz was hiding his face in his hands. Marianne was praying.

Raphael gave them a thumbs up, then asked another question about the lesson, and, a few minutes later, Claude was getting bored. Worse, his sated feeling was already receding, and sitting on Lorenz’s knot was starting to make him feel something besides just ridiculous.

“You can copy my notes later,” he offered, if only so Lorenz would stop wiggling so much as he reached around him to write. 

“Attempting to read your handwriting may well render me blind,” Lorenz replied curtly, his breath tickling Claude’s neck suggestively. “And stop moving so much.”

“ _You_ stop moving.”

Lysithea shot them a look, and Claude did his best to express “you are a tiny baby who hasn’t even presented yet” with only his eyebrows. She either understood or decided he wasn’t worth paying attention to after all, because she turned back with a scowl.

Lorenz pulled Claude flush against his body as he leaned to write something down, and Claude groaned at how it made the pressure inside him shift. He was decidedly too full of knot to deal with this. The fact that he smelled more like Lorenz than himself now might keep anyone else from noticing, but, soon enough, there would be no pretending that the puddle forming in Lorenz’s lap was leftovers. He should just…

“Whoops!” Lorenz’s notes flew across the middle aisle. “Sorry. My bad.”

“Am I truly meant to believe you did that on accident?”

Claude ignored him. “Looks like you’ll have to use Lysithea’s notes. It’s okay, I bet they’re even neater than yours.”

“Absolutely _not,_ ” Lysithea said, at the same time as Leonie turned towards them to say, “Won’t you two _shut up._ ”

Hilda’s delighted squeal of “Ooh! Are the lovers quarreling _already?_ ” was interrupted by Byleth clapping their hands.

“Alright. The rest of the lesson is practical training. We’re continuing this at the training grounds.”

Raphael’s cheer completely buried Lorenz’s protest. Claude didn’t even make an attempt. Byleth’s subtle expressions may be hard to read, but he did have a good amount of experience with the one that meant something like “I am tired of your shit.”

He watched helplessly as his classmates filed past them and out of the room. There was some movement behind him that could be Lorenz smoothing his hair with his fingers, or hiding his face with his hand, or, more likely, doing the latter while trying to make it look like the former. Ignatz wouldn’t look either of them in the eye, but he had the kindness to pick up Lorenz’s notes from the ground before they got stepped on too much. Lorenz thanked him with all the dignity he had left. It wasn’t a lot.

Byleth stopped next to them on their way to the door, their expression just as devoid of judgment as it was of pity. “Come join us after you’ve sorted each other out.”

It wasn’t a full minute after the door closed behind Byleth’s back when Lorenz wrapped his arms around Claude’s middle and buried his face into Claude’s neck, breathing deep.

“Hey,” Claude protested, trying to push Lorenz’s head back despite the awkward angle, “I know I’m irresistible, but aren’t you taking a few too many liberties?”

“I could have sworn…” After a bit more insistent pushing, Lorenz relented, although his hold stayed solid around Claude’s waist. “Wasn’t your next heat supposed to start right about now?”

“How… helpful of you, to be keeping track.” Well, Lorenz’s room was next to his, and one of the people sliding Claude’s schoolwork under his door could have been him. A not creepy explanation probably existed. “Yeah, looks like it’s coming late this time.” Claude shrugged. “Happens.”

That was a lie, of course, since Claude hadn’t gone through a real heat in some time, but if he did, he estimated it would have likely started yesterday. Maybe that explained how he acted with Lorenz today, maybe it didn’t. Claude intended to reflect on that properly at some point in the future, when he wasn’t sitting in Lorenz’s lap.

“Is that so.” Lorenz sounded skeptical. “I was certain I smelled the signs of it on you earlier.”

If his theoretical heat did have some lingering effect on him, was it possible it still had enough of a presence for Lorenz to be able to tell? It did seem typical of Lorenz to have a sense of smell this sensitive, yet fail to do anything useful at all with the information it provided. But that was a lot of thinking for Claude to be doing with the entirety of Lorenz’s knot still inside him. Trying not to squirm already demanded enough of an effort.

“Do I look like I’m in heat right now? You know, I was kidding about the anatomy books, but, really, even if I went into heat in a room full of alphas and not one of them was able to tell except for you, you’d think you’d manage to be sure once you start–”

And then Claude had a thought. It was not a thought he liked.

“Hey, by the way, I was wondering, for no particular reason at all,” Claude said, over Lorenz’s irritated reply of, “I know what a heat looks like”, that he _definitely_ wasn’t _growling_ right into Claude’s ear, “you wouldn’t happen to be rutting, would you?”

Lorenz fell silent, which was it’s own answer that was different than “No.”

“It don’t… believe so?” he finally said, his hesitation speaking volumes.

Claude’s heat didn’t really feel like one, either. And yet. He had been thinking that he would rather be letting Lorenz have another go at him than keep talking, but he was starting to doubt it had anything to do with his enjoyment of the conversation.

“There isn’t a reason for me to be, is there?” Lorenz continued, his tone dripping with suspicion.

“Uh.”

If there was one thing worse than Lorenz confronting him with wild accusations, it was Lorenz confronting him with wild accusations and being right. Awfully bold of Lorenz, though, to try to pick a fight while they were literally stuck together. There were far more productive things they could be doing, now that they had something close to privacy.  
  
“Want to try fucking whatever this is out of us? I’m up for round two if you are.”

Needless to say, in the future, Claude’s heats adhered strictly to schedule. And if, during such a time, Lorenz sometimes happened to find Claude in his room after class, it was because Nature wasn’t one to be denied, and an omega had his needs. Of course, annoying Lorenz wasn’t the goal, but, if the sight of Claude luxuriating in his bed with a pile of books after forcing his lock made Lorenz’s scent turn a little angry, well. Claude liked him better like this. Made him spicier.

**Author's Note:**

> More streamlined and coherent things have been written I'm not gonna lie. This made more sense in my head, and it was also much shorter, but that's just how it is sometimes. If anyone read this whole thing, I hope you still enjoyed it!


End file.
